Once More
by rattan
Summary: Rose thought that she didn't exist at all in the parallel world before she moved there with her mother and Mickey, but it turns out that she's in for a surprise. There is a parallel Doctor who she didn't even know about, who went through the same experiences as her Doctor. Only, he didn't save her life on Satellite 5, leaving her to die, and making it so he never regenerated.
1. Chapter 1

_(AN) More Doctor Who fanfiction! This one, unlike my last two, is a story that is going to have multiple chapters, rather than being a one shot. It's still in process, and any feedback for what I have written so far would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!_

...

"Miss Tyler."

It was a voice, a male voice, but not his. The speaker didn't say her name with the same heaviness, laden with emotion, dripping with love.

"Miss Tyler."

It had been three months since she had last seen the Doctor. She had continued with life as she had previously, even gaining an executive position at Torchwood.

"Miss Tyler."

But she still had a heaviness in her brain, and an emptiness in her heart. The Doctor's absence had a palpable presence in her body, changing the way she held herself and went about her life.

"Miss Tyler!"

"That's not my name!" She snapped, turning to the source of the sound.

It was her thin gangly intern, Sam, hovering at her door, a massive stack of files in his hands. He also looked terrified out of his wits after she had snapped at him.

"Call me Rose," she muttered more softly.

Now that he had her full attention, the boy cringed slightly, taking on a nervous disposition. Nowadays there was nothing but a coldness in Rose's eyes and it made it difficult to talk to her comfortably.

"What is it?" She asked flatly, eyeing the files.

"Y-you have to sort these out," he stammered, approaching her desk and dumping them there. Rose sighed heavily after this, waving her hand to permit Sam to leave.

The boy scrambled excitedly to leave the room, and Rose called out after him, "By the way, get me a glass of water, will ya?"

She turned to the files on her desk, and then rubbed her knuckles into her eyes, sighing. There had to be at least 40 of them.

A knock came from her door. Assuming it was Sam, Rose turned around, hand outstretched for her water, only to find that it was Mickey.

"Oh...hello," she said, surprised.

"Hello yourself," he said, flashing a brief smile. Rose noticed that he had a glass of water clutched in his hand, and he set it down on her desk.

Rose didn't say anything. Mickey worked in a different sector of Torchwood than her, chasing down the aliens instead of sitting at a desk reading files about them. Rose oftentimes found herself to be quite jealous of him, missing her old life. Either way, the two of them didn't talk much, even though he came over for dinner every other night at her house.

Rose also didn't talk much in general these days, and Mickey didn't prod her. He knew the emotions that she was going through after she had lost the Doctor.

"You...can sit down if you want," Rose said, gesturing to the chair on the other end of her desk.

Mickey shook his head. "Nah, I just wanted to pop in, see how you're doing."

"Oh," Rose said softly.

"Rose, are you all right?" he asked gently. Mickey asked her this every single time that he saw her.

"Yes." Rose said curtly. She didn't want to the tell the truth, and never would tell the truth, that she wasn't ok, not at all.

"Ok," replied Mickey. He could see that she didn't want him there. He gave her a quick wave goodbye, and then left.

Rose turned back to her files, eager for a distraction. Taking a sip of water, she was about to look at the first file when another one caught her eyes.

It was a bright, brilliant blue.

The sound of breaking glass sounded throughout the office.

A minute seconds later, two burly security guards were at the door of Rose's office, flanking Mickey.

Rose had already read through the file. A horrified look came onto her face as she stared up at him.

"Mickey! Why didn't you tell me!" She yelled.

"It was for your own good, Rose," he replied sadly. "You weren't supposed to read that file."

"I...but...I..." The whole room was spinning, and Rose found it difficult to speak, like a wad of cotton was jammed own her throat.

"The water was drugged," Mickey explained. "Rose, you're coming with us."

His face was nothing but a blur at this point, and his words had no meaning. Rose could only think of what the document had said.

_Another Doctor. In the Parallel world. Dangerous. To be executed upon sight._

Everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

_(AN) Enjoy! Any reviews are appreciated!_

When Rose awoke, all of her limbs ached, and her throat felt dry and constricted. She managed to open her heavy eyelids with some difficulty, but wished she hadn't. When she saw the white room that she lay in, and became aware of the fact that her whole entire body was restrained, the memories of earlier that afternoon returned, albeit somewhat sluggishly.

She had seen a file. It was the color of the TARDIS, which had attracted her to it initially, and it contained information about the Doctor. But not her Doctor. The file was about a Doctor who lived in the parallel universe.

Rose had no awareness of this information previously, and she hadn't even taken into account the possibility of another Doctor existing in the parallel universe. She had too busy trying to see if it was possible in any way she could get to her Doctor.

Doors slammed open somewhere to Rose's right, and then it hit her, with extreme clarity, the situation she was in.

She heard the sound of footsteps, a blurry face swam into her vision. Mickey. Rose tried to twist her head around, to see him better, but like the rest of her body, her head was locked in place.

Another face came into view, a woman, dressed in a white laboratory coat. Rose stared at them blearily, trying to recall why it was exactly that she felt this anger rising in her chest when she saw Mickey.

"Rose," he said simply.

That was all it took. Memories rushed back. After Rose had read the file about the Doctor, Micky had drugged her water and brought two security guards to take her down. Rage, flooded through her drugged brain, and she thrashed in her restraints, trying to scream. But she could only muster a rasp. Her throat was dry and stinging, and her tongue felt like a fat useless lump in her mouth.

"Rose, I'm sorry, I really am," Mickey said apologetically, reaching to stroke her arm. Rose cringed away from him, eyes wild.

Mickey drew back his hand. "Rose, it has to be done. You weren't supposed to read that file."

Rose stared at him confusedly. What had to be done?

Mickey didn't meet her gaze as he continued. "We have to wipe your memories Rose. Of what you read, and of the Doctor in general."

Rose was frozen in shock for a few seconds, but she soon recovered, twisting in her bonds, tears of frustration building up in her eyes. She tried to yell, to beg him not to do this to her, but she couldn't form words. A pathetic whimper escaped her lips, and she shook, feeling completely and utterly useless. She couldn't imagine losing every last memory that she had of the Doctor

"Sweetheart, this is for your own good. The Doctor will only do you harm," Mickey whispered, trying to soothe her.

Rose had an extraordinary desire to slap him at that point, to rip that stupid look off of his face. He couldn't be more wrong, and what he was doing was nothing but cruel.

The woman set down her clipboard on a side table and approached an area out of Rose's vision. She could now hear the sound of switches and buttons being triggered behind her, and Rose finally realized with a sense of dread that this was really happening. It wasn't a nightmare, and she was about to forget everything about the man she loved. After this procedure, she would believe herself to be a citizen of this universe, living a normal and mundane life, having never met the Doctor and never having these emotions inside her.

She sagged on the table, silent sobs wracking her body, both physically and mentally defeated. She could see Mickey out of the corner of her watery eyes, and she swore that for just the tiniest fraction of a second, regret flickered in his eyes. He hesitantly patted her arm. "It's better this way Rose. You won't have to suffer from the heartbreak any longer."

Rose didn't even bother jerking away from him this time, and her only response was a fresh onslaught of tears cascading down her face. Mickey couldn't even hide his guilt anymore, so he just walked away.

"Mr. Smith, we are prepared to initiate memory replacement. We will start on your command."

Mickey tore his gaze away from Rose, his features hardening into a stony look. "Yes. I hereby authorize you to-"

"No."

A new voice entered the scene. Mickey whirled around, confusion apparent in his countenance.

"What?!" His eyes set on a fixed point that Rose couldn't see, and a horrified look came onto his face. "What?!" He repeated.

"I said, no," the voice responded. And then it struck Rose, the familiarity of that voice, the authority it held. That voice, which she was not expecting to hear, especially not now, shook her to her very core.

Mickey stumbled backwards, as the sound of footsteps approached him. "Security!" he yelled into his mouth-piece.

And then he was there. Her Doctor, but not with the sky-high hair and the pinstriped suit. It was her first Doctor, with his close shaven head and old leather jacket. He had his back to her now, but she could hear the cheeky, daft smile in his voice.

"Quite frankly, I'm impressed!" He proclaimed. "You human's weren't supposed to come out with this degree of mind control machine for another half century!"

A second after saying these words, he dashed from the spot to the unseen machine behind Rose's head, sonic screwdriver whirring. He didn't know her, Rose realized. He was the parallel of her Doctor, and he had never seen her before in his life.

"Fantastic!" he shouted. "The use of globular energy circuitry in here is just sublime! Which makes it really a shame..." Rose heard a few clicks, accompanied by the whirring sound of the screwdriver.

"...that I have to disable it." There was a loud sparking sound, and the acrid smell of smoke hit Rose's nose.

"Can't let you humans get ahead of yourselves," he continued calmly. The Doctor approached Mickey, who was staring at him with a blank look on his face.

"Now release the girl," The Doctor said severely,"or I will-" He froze as his eyes set on her. Rose felt her heartbeat quicken as he gazed at her, his mouth hanging open.

This was the moment. The moment in which he would blurt out something absurdly scientific about how it was too late for her, how he would have to leave her hooked up to the machine.

However, he didn't say anything, instead, approaching her in silent awe. When he reached her, to her great surprise, he took her hand, gingerly, as though it would shatter if he gripped it too hard. The look in his eyes was so familiar, so emotional, so incredibly Doctor, that Rose knew, she knew for certain what he would say next.

"Rose," he whispered raggedly.

"Doctor," she replied, her voice cracking at the end. She could speak now, for it was him. She could see only her Doctor in this man's eyes, and there no words to describe what she was feeling at that moment. But she had to speak. He was back.

"Rose," he repeated, dropping down at her side. His eyes raked her face with an intensity that she had never experienced with anyone else. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, his lips tantalizingly close to hers, his breath tickling her cheek.

"Doctor," she murmured faintly, almost too softly for him to hear her. His eyes were a centimeter from hers, and they conveyed a message that she couldn't interpret. He was staring at her like she was some form of alien. Which, she supposed, she was, but that was far from relevant in that moment.

"...What is it?" she inquired gently. She felt rather flustered by his proximity, and it was difficult for her to get the words out.

"Rose Tyler," the Doctor said simply. "You're not supposed to exist." And with that point made, his leather clad form collapsed to the floor, a dart sticking out of his neck. Rose's eyes shot up, and all she could see were the dark forms of the guards approaching her, dart guns at ready.

She screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

_(AN) Thanks to everyone who is following/reviewing/favoriting this story! Enjoy the latest chapter!_

As the dark forms began to advance upon her, guns at the ready, Rose couldn't think of anything, couldn't formulate any plan. Her body was entirely immobile, and the only thing that she was physically capable of was screaming, screaming until her throat went raw. Rose had no idea what would happen, but she had a feeling that if her fate was the same as the Doctor's she would've already been knocked out.

Oddly, however, just before the men were about strike, she began to feel lightheaded, and her body felt peculiar. Everything surrounding her, the Doctor, the men, Mickey, all began to fade into blurry nothingness. And all sounds contained in the room disappeared, only to be replaced by that of a shrill beeping sound.

With a gasp, Rose's eyes shot open, and all sensations came back into her body. She stared blearily into the dark depths of her bedroom, and then slammed a hand onto the screeching alarm clock on her bedside table. Groaning, she stretched in her blankets, and then forced herself to sit up, switching on her bedside lamp.

She was in her bedroom. At seven in the morning. It was a completely normal, ordinary experience, but as of late it had always felt so odd to Rose. There was this dream that she always had before she woke up. She could never distinctly recall what happened in the dream, but she knew it was the same every night. Mickey and some other bloke were there, and she always woke up, still semi-conscious, with the unshakeable urge that one has so often when they wake up from a dream. The urge to go back, to see what happened.

Rose rubbed her eyes, and dropped her feet down onto the cold wood floor. After a moments hesitation, she then pushed herself out of bed, stalking torwards the bathroom. She was fully awake now, and whatever had happened in her dream wasn't important.

As she went down the hallway, she heard a clanking sound downstairs, and the scent of coffee hit her nose. She meandered off towards the staircase, and tried to keep a cool head. No matter how hard she tried, the faint wisps of that dream kept on nagging her, telling her that something wasn't right.

When Rose got downstairs, she found her boyfriend Mickey pouring coffee into a thermos, briefcase set on the counter beside him. Rose smiled sleepily at him. It was always a pleasant surprise when he hadn't gone to work yet and she got to see him in the morning.

He didn't notice her, and Rose crept up behind him, snaking her arms around his waist.

"Morning," she murmured into his shoulder.

"Hey," he replied, twisting out of her grasp to grab his briefcase. He then went into the next room over to grab something or another, and Rose followed after him lazily.

"I thought you'd be gone for work by now?" Rose asked curiously, as he grabbed his coat off a chair in the living room.

"Running a little late," he replied shortly, brushing past her. "Gotta go now."

"Oh, have a nice day!" Rose said brightly, following him as he went to the door. She shut her eyes, leaning in for a kiss, but after a few seconds she opened them, confused.

Mickey was already at the door, pulling on his coat and fumbling in his pocket for his keys. "See ya," he said briefly, glancing back at her.

Rose had learned not to feel hurt by this. Mickey had been distant with her in the past few months, and he was very stressed by his job. He worked at her dad's company, and the job came with it's toils.

But despite this, she couldn't help but feel there was some strain put on their relationship because if it. She rarely got to see him, and when she did, he was very reluctant around her, and had a tendency to not interact with her all that much. Rose remembered the days when he had been the sweetest guy she knew. But now, those memories were faint, and the reality of their relationship became much more prominent.

Mickey unlocked the door and pulled it open, stepping outside. He was about to slam the door, but then, for some odd reason, Rose called out, "I had that dream again last night!"

Mickey glanced back at her again, the slightest bit of concern in his eyes. "What dream?"

Rose leaned against the hallway wall. "You know, the recurring one."

Mickey froze, and he didn't meet her gaze. "Do you remember anything?"

Rose shut her eyes. She couldn't pull out any details, and it unsettled her. She didn't even know what it was that was bothering her so much.

She forced a complacent smile onto her face. "No, I don't remember anything."

"Good," Mickey said curtly. He made to shut the door, and Rose ran to him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before he left.

"Be safe," she said, with true affection. "There was a zeplin crashing the other week."

He made no reply to this, and then he was gone, slamming the door behind him.

Seven hours later, and Rose was exhausted. Her car had broken down on the way to work, her klutzy co-worker had already managed to knock down 10 racks of clearance clothes in one blow, a child had vomited all over row 6, and she had grease from lunch staining her favorite shirt.

She worked at a shop. And it was horrible. This was one of the worse days, but every single day that job made her want to collapse into a fetal position and sob. She didn't even have to have the job, Micky made more than enough money at his to support them, but if she didn't do something it made her feel like even more of an incompetent slob.

She had been having enough of a lousy day already, but just when she was about to leave, one of her other co-workers had handed her the lottery tickets to take to the electrician, Wilson. Rose was very tempted to just tell him to screw off; she had a pounding headache and just wanted to go home. But the coworker had a gleaming look in his eyes that told her he'd be getting her job if she didn't comply.

She trudged through a good majority of the store, shoving through the doors of the employees only section. One day she would move onto greater things than this simple life. The planet they lived on was at the peak of technological development, and there would be tons of better jobs than this one opening up.

Maybe she could even get a job at the place Mickey worked at. It was her Dad's company, after all. If anything, it would make more sense for her to have a job there. Though, she hadn't actually seen her Dad for a while. Or her Mum. She just hadn't had the time, what with her and Mickey's work schedules. And whenever she asked Mickey to go on the weekend, he always needed the car for something, or was too tired to go. He always told her that her Dad was fine though. That he was...happy.

After a flight of stairs and a damp, dimly lit hallway, Rose reached Wilson's room. She knocked loudly on the door. "Wilson! It's Rose, I have the tickets!"

There was no reponse, and Rose sighed heavilly. He had probably already gone home. She was the only person left in the building, lingering in the gross dark basement with a set of losing lottery tickets. She groaned, and then dropped the money at the foot of the door, kicking it for good measure. She would have a word with the executive here, about this, all of this, and she didn't care if she lost her job.

Rose stomped off torwards the doors, indingated. She was going to go home, and watch the telly, and sleep in until ten in the morning. She was done. She roughly grabbed the door handle, about to jerk it open, when a loud clattering noise hit her ears. She shot around,heart beating erratically, but there was nobody behind her. One of the hat stands for the shop had fallen over. Sighing in one part resignation, one part relief, Rose approached the stand tentatively, bending over to put it back up. She stood up, steadying the stand. When she looked up, there was another pair of eyes staring back at her.

Rose screamed, stumbling backwards, eyes wide. She would've fallen to the floor if the hand that belonged to the pair of eyes hadn't shot out, grabbing her arm.

"Wh-what..." Rose stammered. The figure came out of the shadows, still having a firm grip on her arm. He was tall, clad in a leather jacket and a wool jumper. He had dark, short cropped hair, and intense blue eyes that were locked on her face. For some odd reason, she felt an immense feeling of déjà-vu when she saw those eyes, but she couldn't figure out why.

Rose quickly snapped out of her reverie, jerking her arm out of his grip. "What the hell are you doin' mate? Standing there, creepily watching me from the shadows?!"

The man continued to stare at her, not saying anything. Rose was disconcerted by this, and she couldn't think of anything to say to him.

Finally, he spoke. "You still don't remember, do you?"

An incredulous look came onto Rose's face. "Remember what?"

In a second flat, the man had Rose's hand, slamming a metal tube into it. "Take this," he said urgently. "You need it take this, and remember."

Rose pulled her hand away, gripping the strange tube, which upon further inspection had a series of buttons in it, and a blue bulb on the end. "What are you going on about?!" she exclaimed. "What do you mean?!"

The man shook his head. "I can't tell you that, but you have to do what I say. Otherwise there will be a paradox and danger and-"

"I'm leaving," Rose interrupted. She backed away, an angry look in her eyes. "You're a nutter, and I'm not going to listen to a single word you say!" She turned around, stalking away, when his voice hit her ears again.

"Don't you want to know about the dreams?"

Rose turned to him slowly, her mouth dropping open. "What did you just say?"

"The dreams," the man repeated. For some reason, he had a smug look on his face, so different than the look desperation from before. "You have been having a recurring dream every night. You don't know what it's about, and you don't know why it's happening, but it is driving you mad, Rose Tyler."

Rose approached him, her face displaying nothing but shock. "H-how do you know my name?"

"That isn't important," he said. "But everything else is. You need to take this too." He pulled his hand out of his pocket, and extended it torwards her, holding what appeared to be a wallet. Rose hesitantly took it, trying to not let her hand linger on his.

"When you open it, at the right time, it will tell you all you need to know," the man said.

Rose looked down at the leather package, and undid the buckle on the front. When she opened it up, there was no money, no business cards or anything. Just a piece of paper stretched across the inside of the wallet.

_Trust Me, _it said.

Rose looked up, but the man was gone.

About two weeks later, Rose had a different dream than usual. She was strapped to a table, completely restrained like before, except this time that man was on another table, by her side. She didn't know why, but she kept on screaming, and crying, and telling him that she didn't want to go, that she didn't want to forget.

Sometimes the man was barely conscious, and sometimes strange people in white uniforms came into the room, attacking him, beating his bare skin, trying to force out a confession about something, something that Rose didn't understand. Sometimes they were alone, and he talked to her about things. She told him things as well, but quite often she had no idea what they were talking about, or what was going on.

At one point, he broke down while the men were attackng him, and he yelled things, told them whatever it was that they needed to know.

"_Trust me," _he said, after they had left._ "You'll have to trust me, Rose Tyler."_

And he always held her hand. The whole time, when they were alone, when he was being beaten, when a woman with a clip board came in and told her they had fixed the machine, that she had to go. He only let go when they carted her away, when it was physically impossible for them to touch.

When Rose awoke, she remembered everything of this dream.

She didn't tell Mickey.

It was time.


	4. Chapter 4

_(AN) Another chapter! Thanks again to anyone who is supporting the story :)_

As soon as Mickey had left the house, Rose dashed upstairs, the dream of the night before still burning in her mind. She threw open her closet door and reached into the back most corner. There, she had tucked the items that man had given her in the pocket of a disused sweatshirt.

As her hand clenched around the metal tube and the folded wallet, she paused for a moment, contemplating what she was doing. She was following the instructions of a completely random stranger who had been creepily watching her when she was alone in the basement. He had only vaguely told her that these items would help her 'when the time was right', and yet she was blindly doing what he said on the basis of a dream she had the night before.

_"Don't you want to know about the dreams?"_

His voice still taunted her, and Rose couldn't resist. Refusing to let herself hesitate a moment longer, she yanked the objects out of her closet. For a moment, she stared at them sitting in her palm, not quite sure what to do. But then, she remembered that the man told her that she had to open up the wallet at the right time to get instructions. Looking back, the words seemed ridiculous, and completely unfounded. But so did a good majority of Rose's life at that point.

She flipped open the wallet, half expecting it to still say '_Trust Me_', like it had that fateful night. However, much to her surprise, the paper was completely blank, and she felt her heart sink. She had half expected that it was a scam from the beginning, but there was a certain disappointment in having her thoughts confirmed.

But just as she was about to close it, she almost dropped it to the floor when a flash of black on the paper became visible out of the corner of her eye. She frantically flipped the wallet open once more, her heartbeat quickening when she saw new words scrawled across the paper.

_Take the sonic screwdriver. Flip the silver switch to put it on blue setting_.

Incredulity flooded her brain. The words written on the paper were complete gibberish, and she had no idea how they were supposed to help her. However, upon further consideration, she realized that the words 'sonic screwdriver' most likely were referring to the strange tube that the man had handed her. In a weird, alien way, it did resemble a screwdriver to some extent. Rose scrutinized it further, turning it around in her palm. After a moment, she found a silver switch, near the base of the device. She flicked the switch, and much to her alarm, the device started glowing at the tip and emitting a shrill buzzing sound.

The screwdriver clattered to the floor, still buzzing, and Rose picked up the wallet again, flipping it open as her hands shook. She hoped there would be some explanation for what she was supposed to do with the thing.

_Press the button in the middle, and point it at your face._

Rose groaned, and then stared helplessly at the sonic screwdriver, still buzzing on the floor. She had positively no idea what it's purpose was, and the idea of pointing it at her face was a little terrifying. It could zap her, or explode, or harm her in some other bodily way.

She had positively no idea why she was doing this. She had no idea why that tiny part of her mind was still screaming at her to continue, even though the rest of her wanted to stop. About to put the items back, she glanced at the paper again.

_Trust me, Rose Tyler._

Those words struck her for some reason with a great intensity, and with a sign of resignation, Rose picked up the screwdriver and pointed it at her face, pressing the button.

0000

The screwdriver changed her face. And her hair color. Out of all things it could have done, this was what she was least expecting, and she was rather startled when she caught her reflection in the mirror after a few moments of a tingling sensation on her flesh.

Rose now had dark, stringy brown hair, a significantly more beaky nose, and thin pale lips. Upon realizing this, she proceeded to stare at her reflection for at least twenty minutes, completely overwhelmed. It had been enough to convince her that this situation was somewhat real when the paper had started changing, but this was the icing on the cake. What was the purpose of this? And beyond that, a most prominent concern: Would she look like this forever?

After finally getting somewhat accustomed to the fact that this was reality and somehow the device had changed her face, the paper told Rose that she needed to go into the back of Mickey's closet. When she went back there, there was a woman's suit, exactly her size. When she touched it, an unexplainable jolt went through her body, and she was hesitant to put it on. She wondered why Mickey had the suit in the first place, and the unanswered questions in her head only made her more suspicious.

When she got downstairs and opened the wallet again, she wasn't surprised in the slightest when the paper told her to drive to Mickey's work place.

0000

When she opened the car door in front of Vitex headquarters, the air felt surprisingly harsh and cold on her body. It snapped her out of her bubble of surreality and for the first time Rose truly realized the extent of what was occurring. She was just and ordinary shop girl, who happened to meet a stranger the night after work. Because of this occurrence, she now had a different face and hair color, and she was approaching her father's business; most likely breaking in. She had no idea why the hell she was doing it, other than the weird sensation in the back of her head that was telling her that this was absolutely right. She knew that she should be terrified, but instead, she was exhilarated.

Rose was at the door a moment later, which for some reason was locked, even though she was arriving during work hours. Glancing down, she saw that the paper was telling her to zap it with the sonic screwdriver. When she did so, a little box by the door sparked dangerously, followed immediately by the door unlocking with a click.

Rose blinked, shielding her eyes. The lighting in the building was brighter than the sun outside, and unnaturally white. It took her a moment to get accustomed to it, and when she did, she realized that something was...off. The building was nearly silent, and the lobby was empty except for a security guard posted at the door ahead. Panic filled her head as she approached hm, her feet acting of their own accord. She had absolutely no clue what she was supposed to do when she reached him.

"Identification," the guard stated when she approached. Rose stared at him, having positively no idea what to say. But then, for some reason that was unknown to even her, she held up the wallet and flashed the paper at him. It just felt like the right thing to do. The guard glanced at it for a moment, and then visibly flinched.

"I-I apologize, Madam," he said quickly. He stepped aside, gesturing to the hall behind the door. "Go right on through, you have executive access."

Rose blinked, part confused about what she had just done, part startled that she had actually been allowed though. "Thank you," she said hesitantly.

It didn't occur to her until she was through the door how odd it was that they had this type of security check at a juice company of all things.

When Rose entered, the first thing she noticed was that the room had a very prominent sterilized scent, like a hospital. She glanced around the room, which was a large, wide hall of sorts. People in pristine lab coats scuttled around the room, carrying laptops and clipboards and all the like.

That feeling of urgency, the sensation that something was off in the place only became more sure in her mind when Rose swore she heard the sound of a muffled scream a few doors down within taking two steps into the room. This was confirmed when the sound repeated, only to be cut off abruptly. One moment later, two employees marched out of the room, a stretcher balanced between them. An oddly purple arm flopped out from under the side of a blanket.

Rose had no idea what to think. There had been definite screaming, a horrible, screeching sound that carried nothing but pain and terror. Her breath came in harsh gasps, and she stumbled backwards, eyes wide. The whole room spun around her. There was something horrible in this place. Something sinister and wrong, and for some reason she was here to witness it.

Her boyfriend worked here. Her father owned this place. And no words could convince her that it was the facilities for a juice company.

"Ma'm? Ma'm, are you ok?" A voice cut into her ears. Looking to her right, Rose saw a woman clad in a lab coat tentatively nudging her arm.

"Yes...I am fine," she whispered vaguely. At her words, a suspicious look came onto the woman's face.

"Can I see your identification?" she inquired.

Rose dazedly fished the paper out of her pocket, flashing it at her like she had with the security guard. The woman looked at it for a moment, and then her eyes became wide.

"Madam!" she exclaimed. "My apologies, come right this way!" She walked off briskly, and Rose followed her, her whole body trembling. Obviously the paper had indicated that she was some figure of authority, giving her further access to this place. However, she had no idea why.

"We didn't expect for you to come in to scrutinize the project," the woman said, breaking through her reverie. "It is really such an honor, and I can assure you that it will be worth your time...Oh Mr. Smith will be pleased!"

Mickey. Oh god, Mickey. She hadn't even taken the time to consider it, to truly consider it, but whatever this insanity was, Mickey was involved in it. And from the sound of what this woman was saying, it would appear that he was in charge of it. Where that left her father, Rose had no idea. Either way, it took all her self-control to not break down sobbing, or throttle this woman for answers.

They turned a corner, and the hall suddenly became very dim, especially in comparison to the last room. Rose swallowed thickly, trying to conjure up something to say. If she was posing as some important business woman, surely it would seem odd if she was entirely silent.

More than anything though, she just wished she could run home, away from all this madness, forget all she had seen.

"This is our most important project," the woman said proudly as they made one last turn into a short little corridor. "Torchwood snagged him fairly easily, but he has provided enough data to last us centuries." Rose nodded, her mind in another place.

Torchwood. For some reason, that word struck a familiar chord in her head, and with it came a sinking feeling of dread. Suddenly, her surroundings felt very familiar, and it was horribly disconcerting. She felt like she had been there in that hallway many times before, and something was wrong. There were little wisps of memory, little prodding bits from the back of her head hinting at it, but there were no images accompanied with the feelings.

_Rolling table. Sweaty hands. Screaming, always screaming._

"We're here," the woman pronounced.

Rose shook her head. They had arrived at solid looking door with a blackened window. As the woman bent over a keypad, typing something it, Rose felt a jabbing pain in her forehead. Words went through her head in an incoherent string, but there was one word missing, one vital word tha needed to be there. She clutched her head. Everything was blurry, there was a roaring sound in her ears, and so many words. Words and names. Words she didn't even recognize, words that she never should be able to recognize. Names that she's only seen in textbooks. And images too, very vague images that were of unimaginable things that still made sense. This puzzle was coming together.

"Welcome-"

_TARDIS raxocalifalipotorious alien time and space run Dalek end of the world Victorian time lord New York London parallel-_

"to-"

_fantastic cybermen allonsy ood screwdriver psychic dimensions Jack Sarah Jane Smith 900 years Adam Living plastic-_

"the-"

_bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf bad wolf-_

"Time Lord Project." The door swung open, and Rose couldn't breathe, and the room was full of people, but Rose didn't see any of them. Just the man, that man, laid out on a table, only clad in jeans, his whole body raw and bleeding. His once vibrant eyes, dull and gray. His face, swollen and bruised. His chest, rising and falling in an uneven pattern. His arm, bent at a wrong angle.

His lips, mouthing her name.

Tears, sudden, unwarranted tears rolled down her cheeks, and as his eyes met hers every scratch on his body felt like her own personal wound. She gave a rattling, heavy sob, and suddenly the word was there, in her mouth, filling her body with light, with revelation.

"Doctor," she gasped.


	5. Chapter 5

_(AN) Wow, thanks to everyone viewing this. The story has a fairly decent following now, and it's exciting! Enjoy!_

"Doctor," she repeated, stumbling forward. Image after image assaulted her mind. New New York. Slitheen. The TARDIS. Going out for fish and chips after witnessing the end of the world. Two different bodies, both of which having hands that fit perfectly in hers.

Bad wolf bay.

"Doctor, I-" she was cut off as she doubled over, clutching her head. Searing pain ripped through her skull. Memories, so many memories. It was just too much. Through her tear blurred eyes and roaring ears, she could barely bear witness to a thrashing, crashing sound, followed by numerous people gasping and yelling. Before she knew what was happening, she was half running, half being dragged down the hall, the stark bright lights blinding her. Disoriented, she couldn't force a single word out of her mouth, could hardly pull a breath into her lungs. She stumbled heavilly, and was only kept from crashing to the slick tiles by an arm, tucked securely around her waist. At this contact, a scent hit her nose, a stench of blood and sweat. Rose tore away from this person, whoever it was, and collapsed to her knees, her eyes streaming from exertion. When she had bearings a few seconds later to force herself to look up, she sobbed, shaking her head as she tried to get to her feet.

The Doctor stood in front of her, still clad only in jeans, leaning heavily against the wall. He was sliding slowly to the floor, and he was struggling to breathe. Blood bubbled from his lips, and he was choking on it, coughing and clutching at his side.

"Doctor, what are you doing!?" Rose screamed, trying unsuccessfully to clamber to her feet. "Y-you're hurt!"

He stared at her with dark bloodshot eyes, clutching at the wall. "Your-mind," he spluttered. "You weren't supposed to-to remember this way. I-I have-" He stopped, giving a strangled cry as more blood dribbled from his lips.

Rose finally got herself to stand up, and she ran to him, hoisting the arm that wasn't broken over her shoulder. "Where do we need to go?!" She asked urgently.

"We don't need to go anywhere," he gasped, moving out from under her arm. In a second, he had her head clutched in his hands, and an abrupt sense of calm rushed through her body. Suddenly, the brightly lit hall seemed very dim, and the she could only feel the Doctor's shaking hands at her temples. The burning, searing pain in her forehead faded away, only to be replaced by a sense of coolness, of clarity. The words, names, and pictures were no longer just bits and things in her head. They were now experiences, moments that she had witnessed and been a part of. In another world, another universe all together, she had travelled with the Doctor. She had been the companion to a man who was infinitely ancient and dangerous and who had destroyed his whole species.

Despite this, however, she had loved him. And even though he didn't say anything, she had seen a look in his eyes whenever he saw her. He refused to say it, and she knew that he never would, but he loved her too.

The presence of his hands disappeared from her head, and Rose opened her eyes, not even noticing that she had shut them the whole time. She met the Doctor's dull dying eyes, and another realization penetrated her exhausted mind. This man, no matter how much he resembled him, wasn't her Doctor. And yet, somehow he managed to know who she was. Rose stepped back from him. There was a certain look on his face that told her that she wasn't his Rose either.

"Your mind," the Doctor finally said, albeit with some struggle, "was burning. It was tampered with by unrefined technology." The look had disappeared from his eyes, replaced by something darker. Before Rose had the chance to respond, he took a step in her direction, fists clenching.

"Now," he said dangerously. "Who the hell are you, and why do you look like my Rose?"

His words struck her sharply, and Rose blinked, her heartbeat accelerating. "I-" she stammered,"I thought you were injured."

He gave a short, humorless laugh, gritting his teeth a moment later as he clutched his side. "Superior Time Lord biology," he growled. "But that's not the point. Who. Are. You."

"Rose," she said firmly, confusion flaring in her mind. "Rose Tyler."

"No, you aren't," the Doctor said sharply. "There are things in your head, things that never happened, that weren't supposed to happen. Thoughts of a reality that isn't here, isn't now. And besides..." He paused here, and a look of horror came on to his face. He was staring at something that Rose couldn't see, over her shoulder.

She turned around, but the hall was empty. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow."What?"

"There's something on your..." He stopped once more, his eyes widening with a terror that now Rose could understand, for the sound of advancing footsteps had hit her ears. She didn't even have time to look behind her, due to the Doctor grabbing her hand, yanking her into motion.

"Run!" he said urgently. They set off, and he yanked her around the next corner. At the end of this hallway, there was a large door. They reached it quickly, but when they did, the Doctor swore loudly.

"It's locked!" he shouted. He drew his hand out of hers, fumbling with the lock. He then turned to her with a look of desperation. "And no sonic screwdriver!"

For a moment, this panicked Rose, but then she remembered. She reached into her pocket, drawing out the screwdriver that the Doctor had given her, pointing it at the door and pressing the button. After a few seconds, the lock clicked, and Rose was quick to shove the door open, running inside. When she looked back at the Doctor, however, he was just standing there with a stupefied look on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"You have my sonic screwdriver," he said slowly.

"Yes, you gave it to me!" Rose exclaimed.

"Why the hell would I give you my screwdriver?"

Rose blinked, realization smacking her in the face. The Doctor she had met, the one who had given her this stuff, had to be from the future.

"Because," she shouted. "You knew I would save you with it!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "A paradox!"

The Doctor stared at her blankly.

"It doesn't matter! Get in here!" Rose yelled, for the men had just turned the corner, and were approaching with a startling speed. The Doctor ducked into the room, and then snatched the screwdriver from her hands, slamming the door and sonicing it shut.

The room they now stood in was entirely pitch black. Rose started forward, but she hit her hip on the corner of a table. Wincing, she turned to where she thought the Doctor was. She took a step, but tripped over a stray cable. A hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder before she fell.

"Stay still," the Doctor hissed, almost too quiet for her to hear. Before she could speak, his hand clamped over her mouth.

"Don't. Say. A. Word," he whispered. "We aren't alone."

And then Rose realized something. The Doctor's arm was broken. And yet, he was holding her arm, and he had his hand over her mouth.

"Doctor," she mouthed. The hand came off of her mouth. But someone still gripped her shoulder.

"Doctor, you aren't holding my shoulder, are you?" Rose squeaked.

The lights came on. Rose blinked, raising her arm to shield her eyes. She tried to turn around, to see who was holding her shoulder, but quickly, an arm wrapped around her neck, restraining her. Quite suddenly, she felt the sensation of cold, hard metal being pressed to her head. It didn't take much deduction for her to realize it was a gun.

The Doctor stood in front of her, eyes cold and dark. "Let her go," he said. His voice was frighteningly quiet.

"Why?" a voice laughed, near her ear. "What will you do?"

That voice. It was horribly familiar, and the sound of it made her insides churn. Mickey Smith was gripping her against him, holding the gun to her head. He had betrayed her. He had lied to her for months and manipulated her and kept her away from the Doctor. She tried to scream, to writhe in his grasp. But the arm around her throat was slowly tightening, choking off her air supply.

There was something dark, something unknown written across the Doctor's face."You know exactly what I'll do."

Quite suddenly, the arm slackened around her neck. "How do I know that you won't do it anyways?" Mickey exclaimed.

The Doctor gave him a deadly stare. "You don't."

He then gave Rose a pointed look. It took a moment, but it reminded her of how loose Mickey's arm was around her at that moment. She abruptly jerked away from him, triggering a yell from him as he scrambled to grab her again. And then several things happened at once. The Doctor jerked her to his side, pulling her behind him as he pulled out the sonic screwdriver. He zapped it at Mickey, and then, much to Rose's alarm, he disappeared into thin air with a pop. There was no explosion, no sign that he had ever been there. With the blink of an eye, he had disappeared into thin air.

Rose turned to the Doctor, eyes wide. "What did you do to him?!"

The Doctor turned to her, ignoring her question. "That's not your boyfriend."

Rose blinked. "No, it's not. He's been lying to me all these months, we're not really together."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, somewhat ruining the intensity of the moment. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that man there isn't Mickey Smith. He is an alien life form, and that wasn't even the man himself holding you just now. It was a semi-present atom materializer."

Rose stared at him confusedly. "A what?"

The Doctor sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "A hologram. With physical presence. Made to imitate an actual life form. I just eliminated the signal with the sonic." He shoved said device into his pocket, giving her a look. "And that sort of technology is way beyond your time. Totally alien."

Rose's eyes widened, and she indignantly put her hands on her hips. "Are you telling me that I've been living with a hologram for the past few months?!" But then more pressing questions flooded her mind.

She gasped, covering her mouth. "My dad! My mum? Where does that leave them? And Mickey? The real Mickey, where is he?!" She looked up at the Doctor despairingly, but no answers lay in his eyes.

Suddenly, a crashing sound came from the door behind them, and the Doctor jumped on his feet, running past her to another door on the other side of the room.

"They're breaking in!" he shouted over his shoulder to her. He sonicked the door open, and then ran inside. Rose dashed after him, but before she entered, she heard a manic laugh of delight. She cautiously entered the room, and then felt a smile spread across her face despite everything.

The TARDIS. It stood there, in all of its beautiful blue glory, and the Doctor was running about it, happier than Rose had ever seen him. It sent an odd ache through her chest, and quite suddenly she realized how much she missed it. Traveling with the Doctor, living in that great big blue box.

"This is where I parked her originally," the Doctor said, breaking through her reverie. "I put a perception filter on, so only I could see it. Unless, of course, someone had travelled in here before, which is kinda rare..." he trailed off, his eyes glued on her face.

After a few moments of silence, he said, "You can see it, can't you."

Rose nodded. But before he could say another word, she expelled,"Doctor, how do you know me?"

The Doctor didn't meet her gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Doctor, you were right. I'm not from this reality. I'm not even from this universe! I am from a parallel universe, and I was stranded here when the rift became torn open. I travelled with you in another universe, and I came here before I became trapped. I have parents here, Doctor. They're here, but they never had a daughter. I don't exist! And then you come waltzing along. But you, you're different in my universe, you-" she paused, taking a deep breath, and forcing herself to make eye contact with this man, who both was and wasn't the Doctor in so many ways.

"You regenerated," she continued. "There was a situation, Daleks, I-"

"-you absorbed the Time Vortex into your body," he finished for her, a grim look on his face. Rose gaped at him, but he ignored this, continuing to speak calmly.

"We were on Satellite 9. I sent you home, but you came back, with the time vortex in your body. You said you were the bad wolf." He looked at her in silence.

"But then what?" Rose exclaimed. "And how do I even exist here in this world?"

"You killed all the Daleks," the Doctor said softly. The hard edge of his voice had disappeared, and quite suddenly he looked so old, with his bloodied and bruised body and wistful dark eyes.

Rose tentatively approached him, putting a hand on his good arm. "And then what Doctor?"

He jerked away from her, unlocking the TARDIS door and going inside. Rose ran after him, the turquoise glow of the room bathing her face. But the sheer familiarity of it, the towering, coral-like beams, the knob ridden console didn't faze her in the slightest. She still had unanswered questions.

The Doctor limped up to the console, pulling some of the switches. After a moment, his body was bathed in a dull orange light, and he flexed the fingers on both of his hands, groaning. The cuts on his torso gradually faded, and the bruises became a pale yellow color. After a few moments, he flipped the switches again, and the light disappeared. He turned to her, fully healed.

Rose didn't care. "What happened, Doctor? What then?"

The Doctor visibly swallowed, and turned away. He reached up and ran his hands through his short-cropped hair. However, he finally spoke.

"And then, Rose Tyler," he paused, his voice thick. He turned to her, and Rose had never seen such a look of agony on a mans face.

"Then, your mind burned." He took a step towards her, visibly shaking.

"That day, Rose Tyler, you died."


	6. Chapter 6

_(AN) I hate to say it, but this chapter is a little shorter than the other ones. I was very busy this week and I didn't have much time for writing. Either way, enjoy!_

Rose's mind was a whirlwind as she gaped at this Doctor.

"What do you mean?" she asked him. "That's not what happened." She stepped back. "Th-that's not how it worked, I mean-"

"Oh really!" the Doctor shouted savagely. "Well clearly that is what happened!" He threw his arms wide as he gestured at the entirety of the console room. "You absorbed the energy from the Time Vortex and it completely tore you apart!" He paused, breathing heavilly.

"It tore her apart," he concluded, his voice faded and weary.

"You did something," Rose whispered. "I still can't remember; everything's blurry, but you did something that saved me. But whatever it was, it cost you your life."

And suddenly the Doctor's head was jolting up, and his bloodshot eyes were wide. He ran to her and scrutinized her further, his eyes raking over her face. He took a length of hair in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers, and then dropped it, walking a circle around her. He ended up in front of her again, leaving Rose feeling confused as to what he was doing.

Suddenly, in a manner that completely startled her, the Doctor had his hand on her face, and his eyes were locked on hers. He ran his fingers up and down her cheekbone, and she unconsciously shivered.

"I absorbed the energy into my body," he said hoarsely. And quite suddenly, Rose knew that he wasn't seeing her at all, only that girl, the parallel Rose, that had travelled with him before. She jerked away from him, a little too roughly than necessary. But it hardly seemed to bother him, he still had that absent, dreaming look in his eyes.

She stepped away from him, and then spoke once more. "But how did I exist in this universe in the first place?"

He blinked, turning to her. "Data cloning. There was world war 54:8 in the year 433011, and there wasn't sufficient enough population afterwards to re-form society. Torchwood institute had saved viable DNA samples for thousands of years in preparation for such a thing, and they were able to clone people from years before to recreate the population."

"But I didn't exist in this universe. They couldn't have cloned-" And then it struck Rose. She was living in this universe now, and she had worked for Torchwood. They had most likely attained a sample of her DNA at some point.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Doctor," she said slowly. "Your Rose, the one you travelled with...She was a clone of me."

The Doctor's eyes widened, but before he could say anything, a banging noise came from outside the TARDIS. Rose ran to the console, away from the sound.

"They're breaking in!" she shouted.

The Doctor stayed put. "You know very well that it would be impossible for them to break into here," he said calmly.

He approached her slowly, his eyes intent as they scanned over her figure. "You are incorrect, Rose," he said softly. "You aren't a human being of this universe, and that's why the clone of you wasn't able to survive. You are wrong, the universe rejected you."

"What does that mean?" Rose breathed.

"It means that it is my duty to take you to the Shadow Proclamation," the Doctor said severely.

"What's the Shadow Proclamation?"

"They are like the universal police. They guard the universe against enemies both within and outside of the universal boundaries."

"What would they do to me?" Rose said cautiously. She was getting a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"They would perform tests on you," The Doctor said flatly. "They would figure out exactly what you are, and if they found something amiss, even the tiniest little thing, they would eradicate you."

Before Rose could even react in the slightest to this horrifying statement, the Doctor had shoved past her, moving to the console and flipping a switch. The TARDIS groaned and rocked, and the crashing noise from outside faded away.

Rose's fate began to settle on her shoulders at this sound. Tears filled her eyes, and she ran to the Doctor.

"Don't do this!" she yelled. "Please, don't take me there!" She grabbed his shoulder, trying in vain to turn him around, to make him see her. "You don't have to do this!"

He made no response to this, jerking away from her grasp. He pushed a few more buttons, and the TARDIS pictched wildly, throwing Rose against the railing against the side. Crying out, she struggled to climb to her feet. The floor beneath her shook, and she found it to be impossible. She looked up, swiping her hair out of her eyes.

The Doctor was staring at her. And his gaze held infinite agony, infinite sorrow. He had stilled at the controls, and Rose could see that his hands were shaking. He pulled another switch, not taking his eyes off of her as he did so. The floor stilled, and the roaring of the TARDIS quieted into a soft hum.

"Doctor?" Rose questioned tentatively.

The Doctor shook his head, staring at her helplessly. "What am I doing?" he asked, and Rose wasn't sure whether he was talking to her or to himself.

He took his hands of the console and walked unsteadily torwards her, offering her a hand. She hesitantly took it, and he pulled her to her feet. She wobbled slightly at the abruptness of it, and he placed a hand on her elbow. She glanced up at him, her heartbeat accelerating at this contact.

"Oh god..." The Doctor said shakily. "You're her...you're Rose..."

Part of Rose was indingated that he hadn't realized this earlier, but all of that was wiped away when he crushed her to his body, his arms clenching her to him as though he though she would disappear any moment. Rose was startled initially, but after a moment she returned the embrace, placing her hands on his broad back.

"I can't take you there," the Doctor said near her ear, his voice muffled.

Rose pressed her head into his shoulder, making no reply to the statement. This all felt so familiar, so right. This man was the same man as her Doctor, only in another universe.

They stood like that for eons, seconds, millenia, and then he released her abruptly, dashing up to the console. Dazed, Rose trailed after him. He pulled a few more switches, and the TARDIS set off again, wheezing and groaning.

"Why can't you take me there, Doctor?" Rose asked. The change in his countenance had been sudden, and she had no idea what had spurred it.

"Because you're her," the Doctor said fervently. He turned to her, eyes blazing with excitement. "You're Rose Tyler, just from another universe!"

Rose felt herself smiling despite herself. He was right. She was Rose Tyler, and he was the Doctor, and against all odds, they had been reunited, just under different circumstances. She looked up at him, to respond, but she froze when she saw him.

He was looking at her again, in that horrified way that he had in the hallway. That look made Rose's stomach drop with fear, and she backed away, glancing behind her. He wasn't quite looking at her face, as he had earlier. His eyes were instead fixed on a point right above her shoulder.

"_There's something on your-"_

"What is it?" Rose exclaimed. The Doctor's gaze jolted to her face.

"Turn around, Rose," he said cautiously. Rose complied, and in a moment, she felt the Doctor's fingers running up and down her back. Eventually, he drew away, and Rose turned to him, confusion in her eyes.

"Doctor, what is it?" She repeated.

"Oh, it's nothing!" He flashed her a grin, but it was clearly forced. Rose didn't argue, for she wasn't quite sure that she **wanted** to know what was going on.

"Here, I can show you your room!" he exclaimed. His voice held the same false cheer as his smile. Rose followed him into the dimly lit corindoor leading out of the console room, and Rose knew, with a stomach dropping sensation, that she wouldn't be able to sleep that night.


	7. Chapter 7

_(AN) Please enjoy the latest chapter of Once More!_

* * *

After all that had occurred in the console room, the Doctor had shown Rose around the TARDIS. There wasn't anything particularly significant in this tour. This Doctor's ship resembled the other Doctor's greatly, which seemed like something that would normally bore her. But there was a certain happiness that filled her now that she was re-living it all over again. The towering coral columns, the swimming pool in the library, and the kitchen that never seemed it exist in one place or mode, always shifting around the ship and changing color. All of these things had a special place in Rose's heart, and she felt extrordanarily sentimental now that she was witnessing them again.

Of course, the Doctor was completely oblivious to this. Whenever he showed her something new that would normally take a stranger by surprise, he turned to her with an excited, wild grin that absolutely screamed 'Aren't I just so impressive?'. Rose found it all to be very amusing, and she obliged him, a look of pure glee splitting her face in these moments. It was just so much, being with him here, in the TARDIS once more.

After they had gone to all the main spots, he had taken her to the rooms. There were several ones available for use, some used, some empty. And in the corner, there was one door, painted a vivid pink. It was the only door shut out of all of them, and when the Doctor wasn't looking, she jerked on the door handle. It was locked.

Rose had ended up selecting one of the more basic rooms, containing only a scratched maple wardrobe, a worn twin bed, and a bedside table. However, when she sat down on it, despite outward appearances, it was one of the most enticing, comfortable surfaces she had ever encountered. Weird Time Lord technology implemented in mattresses. She wouldn't question it.

Admittedly, things were somewhat awkward between her and the Doctor. There had been that whole moment of revelation, realizing that they were the same people, but it didn't really solve things. They knew each other so well, but at the same time they were interacting like strangers, like they had never met. That, paired with the tension of the unknown that was occurring in her life right now, made it so Rose was less than inclined to comply when the Doctor had dashed to the console, telling her they could travel anywhere she wanted to. She ended up declining, claiming exhaustion, even though she had only climbed out of bed five hours ago.

However, upon returning to her room with the purpose of thinking over all that was occurring in her life now, Rose had ended up collapsing on her bed anyways, completely clothed. She had abruptly fell into an uneven, troubled sleep, which she was woken out of what felt like about two hours later. At first, she was unaware of what had woken her up, but then she realized that she hadn't had any blankets when she had first gone to sleep. Now, she had a heavy quilt tucked around her body, and on the table, there was a mug of steaming tea.

Rose shakily picked it up, and hesitantly took a sip. She almost spat it out a second later, for it was obscenely sweet. Either her clone had very peculiar taste, or this Doctor was rubbish at making tea. She still drank more of it though, appreciating the gesture.

Rose honestly wasn't sure how to proceed at this point. Yes, she had found the parallel Doctor, but everything else in her life had been flipped upside-down. Everything that she had thought to be true had been completely shattered. And then, she had been manipulated by someone close to her, who turned out to be an alien who couldn't even be bothered to show up in person to harm her. She had no idea whatsoever where her parents and Mickey were, and instead of doing anything about it, she chose to run. Run, pathetically, with a man who she both knew and didn't recognize in the slightest at the same time. Did she trust him? Yes, because he was the only person, the only recognizable aspect of her life that she could bring herself to trust.

Abruptly, Rose jerked out of her bed, setting the tea on the table and slamming the door open. She ventured down the hallway, took a sharp right, and emerged into the console room.

"I need to find my parents," Rose stated firmly. "And Mickey. I need to figure out what's going on."

The Doctor poked his head out from underneath the console, sonic screwdriver in his mouth. He took the screwdriver into his hand, sitting up. "I 'spose you do," he said casually.

"Now," Rose said. "What type of alien was that? The one that was impersonating Mickey."

The Doctor got to his feet, dashing around the console to a monitor. "I'm not quite sure. Clearly something that is capable of taking on different shapes. Not extrordanarily technologically advanced, but enough so to create a realistic molecular holographic projection. If I just look it up using these parameters..." He paused, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard below him.

"We could be dealing with a Chameliorg, a Heliymph, a Xujikan, a Raxacoricofallapatorian, or," he gave her an apologetic look, "pretty much any non terrestrial species in this universe. At these words, Rose's stomach sank, and she suddenly felt very, very useless.

"Well, what are we supposed to do then?!" Rose exclaimed, flinging her hands up in the air. "Clearly we have no leads!"

"We'll have to go back," the Doctor replied, pulling the switch that usually started the TARDIS. The engines roared, and Rose approached the console.

"Retrace to the source," he continued. "As far as I know the workings of Torchwood weren't always so... sinister. The aliens have probably completely taken over." A sudden grin came onto the Doctor's face, and his eyes scanned hers imploringly. "Isn't this just fantastic?"

"My friends and family potentially being killed and/or tortured by an unknown source? Yes, positively brilliant," Rose said coldly.

An awkward silence befell the console room, and the Doctor visibly cringed.

"I'm sorry," he said a moment later. Rose didn't meet his eyes.

"I really am. And I will try, Rose, to my best ability, to get them back. I promise." Rose glanced at him, and his face held a look of absolute sincerity.

"Ok," Rose said reluctantly.

The ship pitched a bit, and then the sound of the engine slowly died down. They had landed. The Doctor unhinged himself from the console, and just as Rose was doing the same, she felt a reassuring grip on her hand. Surprised, she looked up at the Doctor. He smiled at her, gave her palm a squeeze, and then released her hand, dashing to the door.

Rose followed after the Doctor, and he turned to her with his finger pressed to his lips. As she started down the ramp, he slowly eased the door open. Surprisingly enough, when the door was opened, light, natural outdoor light streamed into the TARDIS. And the Doctor was frozen, hand still resting on the door handle as he took in what existed outside of the TARDIS doors.

Rose came up behind him, and her mouth fell open. Clearly, like he had done many times before, the Doctor had made an error in steering.

The two of them stood on what appeared to be a cliff face, towering over a dilapidated, empty city. Pathetic, crumbling stumps that would have at one point been towering skyscrapers loomed over rubble-ridden streets. A smoggy, dry, dust loomed over everything, accompanied by an overwhelming silence. Nothing stirred in the sprawling cityscape, and no sounds escaped the bubble of emptiness.

But that wasn't the shocking part. Rose had seen her fair share of abandoned colonies and cities during her travels with the Doctor in the parallel universe. The shocking bit was above the city, almost level with where the Doctor and Rose stood.

There were these forms, huge, white forms that drifted serenely above all this. They varied in size and shape. There were smaller ones, about the size of Rose's fist, that were round in shape, spherical masses that floated around like balloons. They were covered in spikes, but had no distinguishable features other than that. Then there were the large ones. The only similarity that they held to the other objects was their color. They were the size of small cars, and resembled jelly fish in a sense. They had large, floppy bodies, that waved on the wind, and thin, wispy tendrils that combed through the air. They almost seemed to be alive, or at least more so than the other...creatures. Occasionally, one of the tendrils would shoot out, latching onto something that appeared to be nonexistent, and holding it up to an area that Rose assumed was their face. This area was coated in small, firm bulbs of clear matter. However, the creature had no distinguishable eyes, nose, or mouth.

"Help, please help!" a woman shouted. Rose and the Doctor simultaneously swiveled to the left where this sound had come from. A middle aged woman, thin as a stick, was wobbling up to the TARDIS. She was clad in what appeared to be a dirty, torn military uniform, which bagged off of her body. Tears streaked down her unclean face, and her whole form shook. She almost appeared as though she wouldn't make it to them, and the Doctor sprung out of the TARDIS, running up to this woman, Rose on his tail.

"What is it?" he asked urgently. "What's wrong?"

"Who are you?" the woman asked. "Please, I need to know."

"The Doctor," he replied shortly, confusion apparent in his eyes.

"A Doctor?" she rasped, and a look of relief came across her face. "Please, come, hurry!" She ran off, with the same urgency as before, and the Doctor followed after her, jogging briskly. Rose followed, her heart beating in her throat. It was impossible to tell what was coming next.

They came up over the edge of a barren, patchy hill, and Rose paused at the sight that lay before them.

It resembled a campground that her mother had brought her to once when she was little. That is, if the campground hadn't had any showers or bathrooms, and if all the people attending had been horribly malnourished. Tents littered the ground, arranged in little clumps, most of which having a plume of smoke rising from the middle of them. The ground in between these tents was devoid of any grass, and cracked, clearly suffering from drought. The sound of sickness hovered over the ground, the sound of children crying and people hacking their lungs out. Just two feet from Rose, a small boy, 4 years old at the most, struggled to carry a sloshing bucket of water, barely managing not to trip over his own two feet. He stumbled, and Rose ran to him, taking the heavy burden into her arms. The boy turned his mud streaked face up to her, a look of curiosity shimmering dimly in his dull eyes.

"Hello," Rose said softly. She shifted the weight of the bucket onto her hip, extending a hand for the boy to take. The boy shied away from her, eyes distrusting.

"It's okay," Rose said soothingly. "I won't hurt you, it's fine."

The boy blinked at her hesitantly, and then reached upwards, wrapping his bony hand around her index finger. Rose smiled reassuringly at him, and a grin broke across his thin face. He only had three teeth.

"What's your name?" Rose asked.

For some reason, the boy shook his head. Rose nodded, though not really understanding why he did this.

"Where do we need to take this?" she asked, shifting the bucket on her hip. The boy smiled at her again, and then tugged on her hand, leading her to the nearest tent. For some reason, unlike the other ones, this tent didn't belong to one of the clumps. There were many others like it, lonely tents that hovered on the edge of the camp. Rose also noticed that this was the area that seemed to have the most sickness, the most coughing.

The boy let go of her hand, toddling over to the flap of the tent. He slipped in through it, and Rose ducked in after him.

The tent was very dark, and almost suffocating, significantly warmer than the outside. A horrible stench hit her nose, a smell of sweat and vomit. Rose suddenly felt very concerned about the situation here, more so than before. However, it took a moment for Rose's eyes to adjust so she could asses the situation.

There was a thin layer of blankets in the middle of the tent, and on it lay a woman, breathing laboriously. She was pregnant, at least 6 months gone, and judging from the way that the boy sat by her, running his hands through her tangled hair, she was probably his mother. The woman stirred slightly as Rose entered further into the tent, setting down the bucket.

"Hello," she said weakly.

"Hello," Rose said. The woman coughed heavily, her lungs rattling, she pulled in on herself, shaking. Rose could see that she was very sick, and she set down the bucket of water, taking the woman's hand.

"Are there doctors?" She asked. The boy took the bucket of water, dipping a used rag in it and dragging it across his mother's forehead.

"They all left," the woman whispered feebly. "They all flew away on the Centrun36. Including..." She paused, hacking again. Rose ran her thumb over the woman's palm, squeezing her hand.

"...including my husband. They made him leave, the sedated him, they-" the woman stopped, staring blearily at some point on the tent wall. Rose glanced in that direction, knowing already that there wasn't anything there.

Rose turned back to the woman. "I have a friend, he can help. What's your name?"

"Clerk," she said faintly.

It was quite the peculiar name, but from what Rose could see, this was quite the peculiar planet. She released the woman's hand, getting to her feet. "I'll go get him," she said firmly. "Just wait."

Rose emerged from the tent, and then she ran. The Doctor obviously wouldn't be where she had left him, most likely leaving with the other woman who had brought them here in the first place. She ran up to the first person she saw, an elderly man stumping on a walking stick towards a tent.

"Excuse me sir!" She exclaimed. "Have you seen a middle aged woman and a tall man in a leather jacket?" She knew her description was somewhat vague, but she couldn't formulate any other way to phrase it in her panic.

The man turned to her, mouth open like he was about to say something. But when he caught sight of her, his mouth clamped shut.

"I ain't gonna tell you nothin', you dirty Centite!" He growled. "You think your so uppity, what with your teleportation devices, huh? Too good for us? We don't need any of your god damn help around here! Go back to your dirty space ship!" He punctuated this by swinging his cane at her legs. Rose jumped back, and then started running again, fear thumping through her veins.

"And stay back!" She heard the man shouting behind her. She zipped past two more clumps, and then, much to her relief, the Doctor clambered out of the next tent. At first she smiled at the sight of him, but then her face fell as she saw the state of him. His face was long and drawn, and he looked tired, very tired.

Rose ran up to him. "Doctor!" She said.

He looked at her wearily. "Rose."

"Doctor, there's a woman, a few tents back, and she's pregnant, and she's really sick and she needs help and-"

"Rose," the Doctor interrupted. She looked at him, and saw that his face was distraught.

"Rose, I just witnessed that woman's son, the woman who found us, dying. Rose, everyone's sick." He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can't help everyone, they're all sick. We're in the middle of some kind of plague, and it's quite possible that whatever it is, we've now caught it too."

Rose felt her stomach sinking. "Doctor, what do we do?"

The Doctor stared her down, but after a moment, he shut his eyes, putting his hand on her jaw, stroking her cheekbone, an unexpected show of tenderness.

"I have absolutely no idea."


	8. Chapter 8

_(AN) Wow, over 100 followers! That is seriously cool! Thanks to anyone who's reading this, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!_

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As it turned out, the Doctor actually did have a concept of what they had to do, to some extent. He had immediately sought out leadership in the group of refugees, Rose hesitantly following after him. She felt lost and uncomfortable in the midst of these people. She wanted, desperately, to help. But there were so many sick, terrified faces staring up at her as she walked through the camp. So many malnourished, hunched people, piled into tents like cattle. And the looks on their eyes. Some appeared vacant, like they had no hope or sanity left in them. But some people were staring at Rose like she was the most deplorable, disgusting creature in this universe. They reminded her of the old man who had attacked her, and as much as she wanted to help, Rose found herself fearing for her safety.

The Doctor was appearing to be somewhat unaffected though. Rose had seen a fear, a weakness in the depths of his eyes earlier, but now he marched on, keeping a blank mask in his face, keeping his speech clipped and concise. She had seen the Doctor like this before only a few times before in this regeneration, and whenever she had, something had been wrong, horribly wrong.

The Doctor had ducked into the tent that he had just exited, only to be shooed out. The woman who had brought them to the camp in the first place now glared at him furiously, her eyes holding hatred similar to that of the others. Rose still hadn't known what this anger was about, but things weren't looking good if now everyone was turning on them.

However, much to her relief, a teenaged boy had tugged on her sleeve. Upon turning around to face him, Rose had learned that he was the pregnant woman's other son, whose name was Mathew. Mathew, being the only person in the vicinity who didn't look like he wanted to violently murder the Doctor and Rose, offered to take them to leadership in the camp. The Doctor, upon hearing this, had swiftly followed after the boy.

Now, the three of them were nearing a tent that was larger than the other ones, and didn't have any smaller tents flanking it. They had walked through a good majority of the camp to get there, which was about a kilometer long. The Doctor and Rose had spent the majority of the journey in silence, with him only speaking to ask the boy about the population of the camp, which turned out to be about a few thousand people. Rose didn't know what to say to him. On the inside, she was itching to get to her parents, and Mickey. Her primary desire was to find out what had happened to them. But on the other hand, it would be nothing but cruel to just leave these people, leaving them immersed in this illness.

Rose wished that the Doctor would say something, anything. The silence between them was unbearable, and unfamiliar. In the parallel universe, she had rarely had a moment of silence with either of the regenerations. The silence had a palpable presence between them, and Rose felt that the longer they stayed silent, the larger that presence would grow.

The arrived at the tent, and Rose and the Doctor ducked into the flaps, following after Mathew. However, upon arrival, they didn't see what they expected.

A line. There was a line of people, at least thirty, all clumped together in the tent, waiting to speak to presumably the leader. Many were sick, coughing and hacking, but a good majority of them stood without any of these difficulties. People who had not yet succumbed to the plague, here to represent those who had.

A sudden outburst of movement and sound came from the front of the line, resulting in those in front of the Doctor and Rose shuffling backwards away from the frenzy.

"There has to be medicine! Vaccinations! You can't just let her die, they told me to come here, they said-" The sound of a man yelling was immediately muffled, and out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw him being dragged away by two others clad in clothes that weren't quite as worn down as the other citizens.

"Wait, there's no medicine left?!" a woman exclaimed, and at her shout, other's joined in the clamor, converging in on the man and the presumed guards, yelling and screaming in protest. A fist came dangerously near Rose's head, and she ducked, jerking away from the crowd. She spun frantically on the spot, searching for the Doctor, but he was nowhere to be seem. Mathew still stood somewhat near the flap, and he grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the others.

"Have you seen him?" Rose asked, panicked. "The Doctor, he went off somewhere-"

Mathew shook his head. "We really should get out of here, I need to get to my mother-"

"SILENCE!" a voice roared. Rose turned to the sound, relief flooding through her being. The Doctor perched on top of a disused crate on the opposite end of the room, staring down the people of the room menacingly. At this sight, everyone in the room immediately fell silent, hesitantly turning to witness this new face.

"I can help," the Doctor said, more calmly than before. "I am the Doctor, and I have medicine on my ship."

The room remained silent for a moment, until someone yelled. "Why should we trust a bloody Centite!?" The room was abruptly in an uproar again, and now they were approaching the Doctor, who appeared rather confused at this insult.

Rose remembered that term had been thrown at her as well, by the old man outside. She didn't quite understand what it meant though. Then, she recalled what the pregnant woman had said about a ship, a spaceship. The Centrun36, which had departed, taking her husband away. There had to be some correlation between the names.

"Doctor!" She shouted. But he couldn't hear her amongst the throng. The Doctor stepped back on the crate, away from the shouting people, and then Rose understood. She cut through the crowd, running up to the crate. She somehow managed to reach the Doctor, and when she did, a light came across his troubled face. He grabbed her hand, hoisting her out of the thrashing crowd, and pulling her onto the crate by his side.

"We're not what you think we are!" Rose immediately shouted. "We aren't Centites!"

"What are you doing?" The Doctor asked urgently, releasing her hand.

"There was a spaceship, Doctor," Rosw said, turning to him. "The Centrun36. I dunno what it is, but a bunch of people left on it, and some people were forced to leave. They think we are people who left on the ship, who deserted them here!"

The Doctor's eyes widened, but before he could speak, another voice interrupted.

"How are you not Centites? They're the only ones who could've possibly teleported here!"

"I have a ship!" The Doctor yelled. "It's outside this camp, and I can assure you, it's not a Centite teleportation system!"

The people quieted some at this, and another voice spoke.

"I wish to speak to this 'Doctor'," a woman called. Immediately, the crowd jumbled about at this voice, parting for this newcomer. When Rose saw who stood there, her mouth dropped open with shock.

"Harriet Jones?!" The woman was almost unrecognizable, dressed in a faded pair of jeans and a torn shirt with dirt on her face and tangled hair. However, she was cleaner than the others, and not quite as thin.

Harriet turned to her, eyes attentive. "You know of me?"

And then Rose remembered, in this universe, Harriet Jones wouldn't know anybody by the name of Rose Tyler.

"Someone mentioned your name," Rose lied. She glanced up at the Doctor, and could see from the way that he was looking at Harriet Jones that he didn't recognize her.

"Ah, I see," Harriet replied curtly, standing up straighter. Even in the state that she was in, she still managed to have a regal appearance.

"Then, I assume," Harriet said. "That you have come to speak to me, seeing as I am leader of this camp." If it was even possible, she straightened even further, and stated, "Harriet Jones, leader of all facilities concerning camp 24B."

The Doctor leapt down from where he stood on the crate. "Yes, I am here to speak to you, Ms. Jones. I am the Doctor." Upon reaching her, he extended a hand for her to shake. However, she didn't lift up her own hand in response.

"Doctor, as leader of this group, I am obligated to negotiate and associate with those who are and/or are affiliated with Centites. However, I am uncomfortable with this, seeing as what they did to us. Can you confirm that you don't belong to this category?" She asked.

The Doctor nodded. "As I said earlier, my ship is right on the edge of your camp. It's blue, shaped like a box, and not 'Centite' technology."

"And your companion?"

"You could say that she's my plus one," the Doctor said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. Rose felt a warmth spread through her at the reminder of the travels that she'd had with the other Doctor. However, Harriet didn't seem as amused.

"Search for the ship," she ordered to the presumed guards behind her. The two of them nodded, and released the man they held between them. He staggered away towards the tent flap, and many others followed after him. Soon, the whole tent was empty except for the Doctor, Rose, and Harriet Jones.

Harriet stepped away from them and moved towards an old, rickety wood chair that Rose hadn't noticed sitting there at first. She sat down in it, and the Doctor and Rose remained standing, facing her.

"Where do you come from, Doctor, and why do you come here?"

"I come from very far away," the Doctor said, a vacant look in his eyes. "But as for why I'm here, I don't know. We were aiming for somewhere else, and then I ended up here." He gave Harriet Jones a pointed look. "It's most likely that I got a distress signal."

Harriet shook her head, disgust clearly showing on her features. "We don't send distress signals. We are trying our best to become independent of all, including the Centites."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I don' mean to pop your bubble, but you're doin' a kinda lousy job of that."

Harriet's nostrils flared. "Doctor, I'll have you know that-"

"I don' need to know anything. I look outside, and I see sick people, and dying people. I see people starving. No matter what you say, there is no way you can convince me that you are making progress here!" the Doctor said severely. Rose glanced at him, fingers twisting in her shirt. The oncoming storm had arrived.

Upon seeing the furious look in Harriet's eyes, his voice softened. "I can help, Harriet Jones. If you let me, I can figure put what's wrong with these people, and provide them with medicine. But you have to cooperate."

Harriet Jones crossed her arms, contemplating. After a moment, she looked him in the eyes.

"I will cooperate with you, Doctor," Harriet said sternly. "But I already know what is wrong with these people."

"What is it?" The Doctor responded, hands clasped behind his back.

"They have inhaled extra terrestrial dust," Harriet stated. "This planet was struck by an incoming meteorite that struck on the other side of the planet, but caused a massive outpouring of polluting dust everywhere. This substance is building up in people's lungs, and causing them to cough up a black, tar like substance."

"And everyone fled?" Rose asked. Her soft eyes met Harriet's stern ones. "All the people, of this planet, they just fled away on the Centrun36, didn't they?"

"Only those who could afford it," Harriet said, her stiff countenance fading somewhat. "It was fairly cheap to go, but those who were in poverty, those who just couldn't scrape together the money, had to remain behind. Also, some were taken on the ship because of skills that were a necessity for survival. So all of our doctors were taken away."

"You couldn't afford it?" Rose asked.

"No," Harriet Jones said, "I could."

"Then why did you stay?"

The stern look returned to her face. "I was mayor of the town below," she said, gesturing outside. "They tried to make me come on board the ship, but I didn't. I refused to leave my people."

The Doctor smiled proudly at her. "That's simply fantastic, Harriet Jones. But what is even more fantastic is the disease that is plaguing your people!"

Both Rose and Harriet gave him horrified looks.

"I beg your pardon Doctor, but how is that in any way, 'fantastic'?!" Harriet said dangerously.

"Viscitis. A fairly common disease, originating on the planet of Viscosia, which is almost entirely composed of tar. It also has a tendency to eject chunks all over the universe that migrate towards planets. When striking planet surface, like any other meteorite it has a tendency to release dust. When this dust is inhaled, it precipitates into a tar like substance in the lungs. Viscitis hits very quickly, but it's very easy to cure with modern medicine. I can just manipulate the atomic structure of the compounds in the surrounding atmosphere using my-"

"You can help," Harriet interrupted. "That's all that's important." She gestured impatiently towards the door. "Now go! Do what it is that you need to do!"

The Doctor jumped into motion, running to the tent flap. Rose ran after him, sparing Harriet Jones a glance as she left the tent. The woman looked much less tense, almost relieved to some extent.

Upon emerging from the tent, the Doctor grabbed Rose's shoulders, turning her to face him.

"Rose, I am going to perform a blanket treatment on these people, and to do that I'm going to modify the atmosphere. I need you to clear out all of tents. Every man, every woman, very child. There is going to be an air bubble around the camp, and within it, the air is going to be modified in such a way that will allow people to breathe easier," He let go of her shoulders. "And quickly!"

"Alright," Rose replied. But as she did so, she felt an odd jolt of pain in her chest, and she winced, placing a hand there. She looked up, but the Doctor was already off.

Rose proceeded to run around the camp, stopping by almost every tent clump and having everyone clear out. Some people gave her distrustful looks, but all complied when she told them it was under the orders of Harriet Jones, which was technically true. She managed to get most people to spread the message to those they knew, making it so that she didn't have to stop by as many tents.

She eventually reached the edge of the camp, near Clerk's tent. The three family members stood outside, the boys physically supporting their mother, who seemed peaked, but in overall better spirits than before. Rose flashed a smile at them as she jogged by. There were a few tents remaining on the outskirts of the camp, and Rose made sure to stop by them, relaying her information.

Rose ran a little further outside the edge of the camp, just to make sure that there weren't any tents that she had missed. There weren't any, and she turned around to return to wherever the Doctor was. However, just before Rose started running again, the stabbing sensation returned to her chest, and this time if didn't fade away, only expanding along her torso.

Rose cried out, and fell to her knees, clutching at her chest. She suddenly felt very weak and feverish, and the pain tore through her like a thousand knives. She was quite suddenly bent over, coughing and wheezing into her sleeve. When she drew it away, it was coated in a black, tar-like substance. Fear filled her at the sight of this, but she didn't have much time to contemplate, because soon she was bent over once more, gagging as the substance clogged up her throat and mouth.

_"Viscitis hits very quickly."_

A buzzing sound hit her ears from far above, and Rose feebly turned her head up. A translucent turquoise bubble was descending over the camp at a rapid pace from above. Soon, it encompassed the whole entire ground area. This had to be the atmospheric shield that the Doctor had told her about.

However, Rose was at least twenty feet outside said shield, and she couldn't muster the energy to get to her feet and run to it. She collapsed even further at this thought, and curled up on her side, suffocating on the tar that pushed up through her lungs.

Through her blurry eyes, Rose could see one of the creatures from before, one of the white beings with tentacles floating above her. It approached the bubble that the Doctor had constructed, but when it hit it, the massive creature froze in the sky. Abruptly, it dropped like a dead fly, flopping down to the ground below. This was the last thing that Rose saw before the darkness seeped in from the edges of her vision, and everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

_(AN) This chapter is more from the Doctor's perspective. I thought I would just try it out, but if people like it I might do more chapter like this. Enjoy!_

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The Doctor flipped the monitor to where he bent over the console, fiddling with the knobs that controlled compounds in the atmospheric shell he had constructed. Upon examining it, much to his relief, he could see that he had manipulated the chemicals to just the right level to make the air sustainable and healing. He tapped the screen, changing the monitor from the various graphs and charts displayed there to the camp itself, right outside the TARDIS. After pulling a lever, he watched as a translucent turquoise shield descended over the area. This would prevent toxins from permeating the safe bubble he had created.

Knowing that all was in place, the Doctor shut off the monitor and proceeded to the door. This air treatment was not admittedly the most particular and stringent way of curing the camp, but it was the quickest, and the most convenient. After only a short interval of inhaling the modified medicinal air, people's lungs would clear of the tar, and initiate sterilization of infection. This technology was very similar to that of 51st century nano-genes that his friend Captain Jack Harkness had available on his ship.

The thought of this individual made the Doctor's hearts sink heavily. Captain Jack had joined him and Rose as a companion on their ship part way into their travels. He had many of the personality traits traditional to someone of the 51st century, what with his obnoxious flirting and obvious vanity. But despite this, the Doctor had grown to appreciate and respect the Captain to some extent. In fact, the most he had ever come to respect any of the 'pretty boys' that Rose had insisted travel with them.

The Doctor had considered, for the briefest moment, bringing Captain Jack with him, on that horrible day. He had caught the briefest glimpse of him, gasping for breath on the floor as the Doctor ducked into the TARDIS. But he knew that Jack was a liability, and would only bring harm to him and Rose.

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door, stepping outside to face the camp before him. He then sighed heavily as the inevitable memories assaulted his weary brain.

The Doctor had mainly feared for the safety of his Rose, who lay lifeless in his arms as he staggered into the TARDIS. At the moment, he had been in complete and utter denial that she was dead. When she had told him that she could see everything, the sun and the moon, the day and the night, he had known that she was seeing the same things that he was seeing. He also realized that if it wasn't taken out of her, the bad wolf entity, that she would burn. That her mind would completely disintegrate.

But, before the Doctor could get to her, all the light had fled from her eyes and body, rushing back into the TARDIS, and she had fallen to the ground, completely limp. The Doctor had rushed to her, hope flooding his mind at the possibility that Rose was safe, that the Bad Wolf had left her. But her pulse had stilled, and no breath filled her lungs. The Bad Wolf had left, but taken Rose's consciousness with it.

The Doctor shuddered at this rememberance, and it brought him back to reality somewhat. A woman who was Rose in every single aspect was in the camp that sprawled before him at this very moment. It would appear as though she had gone through all of the same experiences that he had, and gone through them with a parallel him. The two if them had discussed this to some extent, and the Doctor still felt haunted to by that encounter. He had been prepared to cart her off to the Shadow Proclamation without a moments consideration, nor knowledge of what hell they would put her through. He hadn't seen what she was, hadn't realized the chance he had been blessed with.

What made it even worse was that the Doctor had met her before, talked with her even. When he had first discovered this Rose, the officials at Torchwood had drugged him and brought him to a room to be stored as one of their keepsakes. They had temporarily put Rose there as well, and they had been able to speak to each other. Everything had been somewhat vague, and he himself was very disoriented. The Doctor had reassured her in her panic at getting her memories wiped, and tried his hardest to keep calm himself. The Torchwood workers came in at regular intervals at this point, attempting to beat the information about the memory wiping machine out of him. He had damaged the innermost circuitry, and the technology was so beyond that of Torchwood that they had no concept of how to fix it. The Doctor hadn't relented under this pressure, for a while at least.

It was when they had told him that Rose, who he still hadn't known was from a parallel world, would be killed if he didn't comply.

The Doctor reached the perimeter of the camp ground and stepped through the atmospheric shield. He was a timelord with superior biology who wasn't affected by the meteorite dust, but immediately he found it easier to breathe when he stepped into the boundaries of the camp.

All of the refugees stood outside of their encampments, just as Rose had instructed them to do. Much to the Doctor's relief, he could visibly see that the atmospheric treatment was helping these people. The sound of people coughing and hacking wasn't nearly as present, and he could see that those near him stood straighter, and looked overall less ill. Of course, there would be anomalies, and those who needed extra medical attention, and the Doctor could help them out more now that everyone was inhaling the treated air.

The first order of business was to go to the main tent to inform Harriet Jones that the treatment was successful. The Doctor started walking further in the camp, only to be distracted when he heard a loud clamor in the direction he was heading. He could hear shouting and screaming, but the words being spoken were indistinct. The Doctor increased his speed, jogging towards the tent, lost as to what could be causing this distress.

Upon turning a corner down the row containing the main tent, a massive amount of people were to be seen crowded around up ahead, yelling and waving their fists in a similar manner to before. But there was one key difference to be found this time.

Weapons. Very crudely put together, at that, but weapons. Spears created from broom handles and bits of scrap metal tied together with someone's shoe lace and old rusty kitchen knives were among the mix.

This was a rather alarming change, and the Doctor sped up further, running onto the scene. He soon saw Harriet Jones, standing off to the side, a stern, disapproving look on her face. The Doctor ran to her, and as he did so, he noticed that heads were turning. Those who held weapons looked on at him with a look that could only be compared to sympathy, and this only added to the Doctor's confusion.

Eventually, Harriet Jones caught sight of him, and she too moved briskly in his direction, an unreadable look on her face.

"What's going on?!" the Doctor asked, eyebrows knitting together. "The weapons, why-?"

Harriet's facial expression suddenly was much more readable to the Doctor, and now he could see fear written plainly across her features.

"Doctor, you need to come with me now," she said, and the Doctor could hear the slightest tremor in her voice, no matter how authoritative she tried to come off as.

Before Harriet could proceed towards the tent, the Doctor seized her arm, turning her around. "But what's happening? You need to tell me!" He exclaimed.

Harriet stiffened under his grasp and turned to him abruptly.

"Doctor, it's Rose," she said sharply.

All rational thought evaporated from the Doctor's mind in that moment, and he ran to the tent, cutting and pushing through the crowd. He could only think of her, of Rose, and fear what had happened to her.

"Rose!" the Doctor shouted. He shoved through the tent flap, into the darkened room, his hearts jumping all over the place as panic rose up his throat.

She lay on her side on a table, and the Doctor couldn't hear her breathing from where he stood. His hearts sank into his stomach at the sight of her, and in four strides he was at her side, taking her hand in his and feeling her wrist for a pulse.

There were no words to describe the relief that went through the Doctor when he felt it there, the faintest flutter of a beat.

The Doctor released her hand and stood, facing Harriet, who now seemed infinitely small in his current rage.

"What happened to her?!" he growled. "Where did you find her?"

"She's contracted the disease, Doctor. The one you were talking about before," Harriet responded resolutely.

The Doctor quite suddenly felt very oblivious, and he dropped once more to Rose's side, taking her hand in his. He could see black stains now that he hadn't noticed before down the front of her sweatshirt, and her skin felt unnaturally warm.

"She was found outside the atmospheric bubble that you created, and appeared to have collapsed there. She was unconscious."

Harriet's words were nothing but a buzz in the Doctor's ears at this point, and he quickly reached into the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a stethoscope he had in there. He placed it on Rose's chest, and was able to hear a rattling sound accompanied by her uneven breathing.

"I'll presume that you've seen the creatures, the **things** outside the camp, right Doctor?" Harriet said sharply, abruptly changing the subject.

The Doctor nodded vaguely and tucked his stethoscope back into his pockets, knitting his brows together in concern as he looked down at Rose's slack face. She most likely had a higher susceptibility to the disease, having not been exposed to the dust ever before in her life.

"Well one of the things was found by Rose, dead," Harriet continued. "The species arrived on our planet shortly after the arrival of the meteorite, and it is believed by many that they are responsible to the illness to some extent."

The Doctor absent-mindedly nodded again, Harriet's voice coming in one ear and going out the other. Rose was in critical condition here, and it appeared that it would be necessary for him to move her to the TARDIS medbay and treat her properly.

"There is now an uproar. People have somehow rationalized that because of this occurrence, they can now go out and kill these creatures. I didn't allow it before, but it's possible that if I don't now, I would have an uprising on my hands. I've now authorized people to-"

"I'm taking her to my ship," the Doctor interrupted bluntly. He wrapped his arms under Rose's legs and torso and picked her up, pulling her close to him as he stood.

"I will return as soon as I can," he continued, glancing at Harriet. She made no response to him, appearing rather offended at his interruption, and on that note, he ran out of the tent, Rose jostling in his arms.

When he emerged out of the tent, the crowd was gone, much to the Doctor's relief. It gave him the ability to move much faster through the camp.

Rose was alive, but the Doctor's panic hadn't ceased. It would be horrible beyond anything if he had to witness the death of this tiny pink and yellow human once more, and know that he was responsible. She had to be fighting now, if she was still managing to breathe.

The Doctor cursed himself infinitely as he dove around corners and pelted past frightened families. He should've payed more attention to her, given her the care that he had been negligent in giving to her before. He should've protected her where he had failed to otherwise. Now she could die again, and he reckoned he wasn't going to get a third chance. The Doctor clutched Rose tighter to him, reminding himself that with each wheezing breath she was losing some of her life.

After an interval of time that felt like a million years, the Doctor finally reached the TARDIS, breath coming shortly. The poisonous air around him wasn't helping in the slightest, and it almost seemed like it had gotten thicker, more noxious since the last time the Doctor had been in it.

He temporarily set down Rose to unlock the TARDIS door, and then scooped her up again once it swung open.

The familiar hum in the console soothed his frayed nerves to some extent, but had a minimal affect. He could practically feel Rose dying in his arms, and it terrified him beyond anything. It took far too long for him to stagger into the med bay and put her on a table. Once he had gotten in though, he worked more quickly, more frantically than he ever had before. In a matter of moments, he had her hooked up directly to a respiratory machine. Now, two tubes ran out of her body, one from her mouth and one from her nose. The tube from her mouth directly pumped the massive accumulation of tar out of her lungs, and the tube from her nose pumped oxygen back in. In addition, she had an IV in her arm pumping sedatives to prevent her from waking up while the tar was still being removed.

With a minute or two of setting all of this up, the Doctor could see the black substance filtering up from the mouth tube, and he sighed in relief, sagging to his knees at Rose's side. He stayed there for a long time, grasping her hand tightly in his and listening to her breathing becoming more smooth and regular. Eventually, he pulled up a chair and took her hand again, just sitting there and watching her face, searching for some kind of response.

The Doctor's panic about her illness had subsided dramatically, but he still worried about what awaited him when Rose awoke. He was unsure whether she trusted him or not. And he was unsure about how she would be around him when she awoke. They hadn't really just sat down and talked about what had happened to the both of them, and he felt like that needed to happen.

After a few moments of this, the Doctor got up from his seat, intent on going to the console room. He would remove her tubes as soon as all of the tar had been pumped out of her lungs, and the time interval between now and then wasn't long enough for him to go back outside to the camp. For now, he would just pop out and check on the readings for the atmospheric shield.

The Doctor reached the console room fairly quickly, and when he did so he proceeded over to the monitor. The levels within the atmospheric shell remained around the same, meaning that no adjustments had to be made. However, just before the Doctor was about to shut off the screen, he noticed a small mauve flashing alert in the corner of it. Concerned, he tapped the light.

The monitor started emitting a shrill beeping sound, and the message on the screen alarmed the Doctor.

DANGEROUS LEVELS OF ATMOSPHERIC TOXINS. DO NOT PROCEED OUTSIDE OF TARDIS WITHOUT SPACESUIT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

"What?" The Doctor exclaimed to himself. He looked at the levels, and was astonished to see that the amount of pollutants in the air outside the atmospheric shell had increased dramatically since he had last checked. This was an urgent matter that had to be monitored, and the Doctor needed to unhook Rose from the machine as soon as possible so he could go outside and figure out was happening to the air.

He dashed back to the medbay, and a flashing green light and an empty tube indicated that Rose's lungs had been cleared. The Doctor proceeded to disassemble and remove the tubes coming from her nose and mouth, and cut off the sedative flowing in the IV. He quickly scribbled a note on a piece of scrap paper, and ran out of the medbay.

A second after arriving in the hallway, the Doctor couldn't help but glancing back at Rose. She lay motionless on the table, arms and legs limply splayed apart.

Before the Doctor knew what he was doing, he had dashed back into the room. He pulled Rose up into his arms again and started carrying her down the hall, approaching her room. He nudged the door open with his foot, then padded over to her bed, gently placing her down on it. Retrieving the quilt from the foot of the bed, he tucked it around her body, slowly, as to not wake her up. He then put the note from the medbay on her bedside table, tucking it underneath the empty tea mug from earlier. Before leaving the room, he stooped down and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

It was the Doctor's first instinct to feel disgusted at such domesticity, but now he didn't, for some unknown reason. The sight of Rose lying there, entirely serene, made his hearts swell with an emotion that was completely foreign and familiar at the same time.

An emotion that needed to be ignored, he realized, as he crept past the locked pink door down the hall.

From the wardrobe, he found an old orange spacesuit that he pulled on over his normal clothes. Apparently it was what was necessary, if the atmospheric levels outside were really that dangerous.

The Doctor exited the TARDIS not pausing to do anything in the console room.

Without checking the monitors, for he had already done so earlier.

Neglecting to see what he should have seen so long ago.

_Planet: Earth_

_System: Sol_

_Galaxy: Milky Way_

_Time: 10/6/06_


	10. Chapter 10

_(AN) Thanks again to anyone who is supporting this story! I thought I'd try replying to some reviews, seeing as I've never done that before and I really wanted to try it out!_

_**Purple Guest**: I'm glad that you like the story from the Doctor's point of view! I'm going to try and incorporate more of that into later chapters. And yeah, the Doctor is kind of out if it right now. It will take a while for things to settle in now that he's got a parallel Rose on the TARDIS. Also, thanks for consistently reviewing my chapters!_

_**TiaKisu**: There isn't much difference personality-wise between the Doctor on Rose's universe and the one in this universe. This just goes to show it. As for the TARDIS landing on earth, you will learn more about that in future chapters, including this one._

_Thanks again for all reviews! Enjoy!_

* * *

Rose awoke with a gasp. The dim room swam before her before becoming gaining some clarity, and she sank back into her pillows, shutting her eyes. For some reason her mouth tasted horrible, like something had burnt there, and her throat was raw and sore.

Rose swallowed, cringing, and then slowly pulled her legs over the side of the bed, padding over to the bathroom. Upon reaching there, she made her way over to the sink and swished a cup of water. Her head was aching something awful, so she then proceeded to knock down two of the pain pills next to the sink.

These actions didn't have much presence in Rose's absent-minded, sleepy brain, until she froze in the doorframe before she was about to go back to her room.

Rose was on the TARDIS. Which, under ordinary circumstances was shocking enough in it of itself. But she wasn't supposed to be on the TARDIS, not at all. The memories from earlier in that day flooded back into her brain, and she involuntarily clutched at her throat, half expecting to feel the suffocating tar coming up from her lungs.

But Rose was breathing fine, and altogether feeling fine aside from the symptoms she had experienced upon waking. She had feared in her last moments before passing out outside that she would die there, succumbing to the Viscitis disease that the Doctor had told her about. But apparently, someone had found her and taken her back to the TARDIS.

It only could be the Doctor, for he was the only one with access to the ship. This meant that he was probably still on board somewhere. With this knowledge, Rose crept out of the bathroom and went back into her room. She flipped on the lamp beside her bed, squinting slightly as she grew accustomed to the light. When she did, she noticed a small slip of paper on the bedside table that she hadn't noticed before. She picked it up and unfolded it.

_Rose,_

_You contracted Viscitis, and your symptoms were more severe because you hadn't been exposed to this type of dust before. I brought you back to the TARDIS and cleared your lungs, but that doesn't mean you should go wandering off, you're still sick. I'm out by the camp, and I'll be back soon. STAY WHERE YOU ARE._

_-Doctor_

Rose scoffed, tossing the note back on the table. As if. She was going to find the Doctor, wherever he had pranced off to. Of course, as soon as this thought popped into her head, Rose started coughing, her throat burning as she doubled over.

After a moment of this, Rose straightened, if anything, more determined than before. She wasn't going to let a petty little bug keep her in the TARDIS. Every moment she was idle, her family and Mickey could be in even more danger than before.

On this note, she marched out of her room and towards the console room. On her way, she passed by the wardrobe. Glancing down, she could see that her clothes were a mess. A change of attire was in order.

The old TARDIS in her universe had always provided her with whatever clothing best suited the situation she was going into, moving the clothing items to the front of the wardrobe so she could retrieve them easily. Rose wasn't as sure about this TARDIS. It hadn't done anything that had notably indicated that she wasn't welcome, and it had provided her with clothes once before, when she had first arrived on the ship. But she hadn't gotten much time to know it so far, so she couldn't really be sure. The TARDIS was a sentient being, and Rose knew that she could easily have a completely different persona in this universe.

Rose eased open the door to the wardrobe, and much to her relief, there was some clothing around her size on the front and foremost rack. To her surprise, however, along with the shirt and trousers provided, there was a space suit. A bright orange space suit, very similar to the ones that she and the Doctor had donned frequently on their adventures in the other universe.

Rose grabbed the clothing and then ducked in to the wardrobe, changing into them. She grabbed the spacesuit as well, but neglected to put it on, instead folding it up and carrying it along with the helmet as she headed into the console room.

A shrill beeping sound hit Rose's ears as soon as she entered the room, and she cringed, scanning for the source of the sound. She quickly found that it was coming from the monitor, and approached it, dropping the suit down on the jump seat.

The screen was flashing, and rather than displaying some complex scientific figures or percentages, like Rose was expecting, there was something that shocked her beyond anything.

Hand on her mouth, Rose shook her head and backed away from the screen. There had to be some sort of mistake. If the information on the screen was true, then they were in bigger trouble than she could have ever conceived previously.

Rose ran for the door of the TARDIS and grabbed the handle, yanking. But the door wouldn't budge. Rose knew that by default, it wouldn't lock like this, and it should be able to open.

"Let me go!" Rose shouted, turning to the console accusingly. Her doubts from earlier about the TARDIS were certainly returning. Clearly the only cause of the door locking like this was the ship's meddling. "The Doctor doesn't know what he's saying, he has to know this inform-!" Rose paused as another fit of coughing overtook her.

Gasping, Rose directed her gaze at the console once more. "I need to get to him, I need to-" She froze once more, this time for an entirely different reason. She now saw the spacesuit sitting on the jump seat.

Five minutes later found Rose fully decked out in the suit and helmet, going for the door once more. Not to her surprise, it now swung open with ease. It was what lay beyond that was shocking.

A thick, impermeable smog filled the air in front of her. It was a grayish brown in color, and almost entirely opaque. Accompanying this were the sounds of yelling and what sounded like explosions. Before Rose could even begin to get used to this alarming scene, some massive form fell right in front of the TARDIS entrance, causing her to shriek and jump backwards. She could only see as much as a few steps in front of her, so it was impossible to discern who or what the massive thing was. She reached up to the top of her helmet and flipped a switch, turning on the headlight. It didn't help much, but she could see slightly farther in now.

It was one of the creatures from before. One of the large, white creatures with the tendrils lay in front of her, something that resembled mud leaking out of its side. Rose ran to it, dropping down on to the ground. She had seen one of these creatures die before, when she had been outside the bubble. It had fallen straight from the sky when coming into contact with the bubble. Now that Rose back to that, the occurrence seemed to be rather peculiar. It had just fallen, without any reason other than hitting the bubble.

However, the circumstances of that were slowly causing this creature's death were much less bizarre. Unlike the other one, it was clearly injured. It's large body heaved up and down weakly as more sludge leaked out of its side, coming from what appeared to be a large ragged cut. Rose's hands hovered over the creature, her eyebrows knitting together from concern. She had positively no idea what to do in this situation.

"Get out of the way!" someone yelled. Rose jumped with a start as someone pelted past her through the dust, clutching rags to their face and hefting what appeared to be a poorly crafted spear over their shoulder. Rose could only watch with dismay as the person threw the spear, effectively striking down another one of the creatures.

The creature gave a large bellow and plummeted to the ground, before Rose knew what she was doing, she was running, running as far as she could because that was all she could bring herself to do. She couldn't even begin to fathom what had happened out here, what with the air somehow becoming even more noxious and people suddenly making it their priority to kill these creatures. This had all happened in a matter of hours, with a jab of guilt, Rose thought of the possibility that she and the Doctor were somehow responsible.

But that wasn't first priority. Rose had to tell the Doctor what she had seen on the monitor. Much to her relief, the air cleared slightly up ahead, and the thin turquoise membrane of the shield the Doctor had set up became visible. Rose quickly ducked into it, and sighed with relief at the sight relatively clean air in front of her. She then proceeded to yank off her helmet as another coughing fit overtook her. Her chest stabbed and ached with each ragged breath, and she swayed, her vision blurring before her. However, after standing there for a few moments, she was able to regain her breath. The treated air soothed her burning lungs and made it so she could properly breathe.

Rose looked around, searching for someone who could possibly know where the Doctor was. But it appeared that the camp was nearly deserted. A few stray tents here and there had people by them, but said people were mostly the children and the elderly. Rose's safest bet was to seek out Harriet Jone's tent and see if the Doctor had gone there.

It took her a lot longer to reach Harriet Jone's tent than it had last time when she had been running around the camp. Everything in her body ached, and she was horribly sweaty in the suit. Each and every step was laborious.

She eventually got there though, and much to her relief, upon reaching the tent, she heard a loud northern accent shouting from within. Rose's first instinct was to go right on into the tent, but then she remembered the Doctor's note that he had left behind. She most liKelly wouldn't be well received if she just popped right on in.

"Harriet Jones, this is no time to have your civilians running amok and shooting down aliens! Your atmospheric toxins just had a dramatic increase, and they're all going to suffocate!" Rose heard the Doctor yell. She crouched down by the tent flap, leaning intently towards the sound of his voice.

"Doctor, you are mistaken. Clearly the creatures are responsible in some way shape or form for this plague and as leader of these people I am responsible for-"

"The creatures haven't even done anything! You have no proof of anything whatsoever, and clearly these people are just looking for an excuse to jump to violence! What we need to do is-"

"Doctor, I am leader of this camp, not you," Rose almost cringed at the coldness in Harriet's tone. "Since I am hospitable to some extent, I won't kick you out of my tent. But as of right now, I am exiting to view the progress. I assure you, the disease will fade away as soon as these pests are annihilated."

The sound of Harriet's footsteps on the dirt became louder and louder, and in vain Rose tried to duck out of the way of the flap. But Harriet was already storming out of the tent, and Rose was in plain sight as she surveyed the area around her. In a moment, her gaze had fell on her.

Before Harriet could say anything, Rose pressed a finger to her lips, shaking her head. She then gestured to some distance away from the rent, and Harriet nodded curtly, albeit with a somewhat surprised look on her face. Rose got to her feet, and the two of them proceeded a safe distance away.

"Rose Tyler, what are you doing here?" Harriet exclaimed, as soon as they had gotten out of the Doctor's earshot.

"I have some very important information that I have to relay to the Doctor," Rose replied, her eyes darting nervously back towards the tent. "But I can't see him quite yet because I'm not supposed to be here."

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "Then why bother coming in the first place?"

For some peculiar. reason, Rose could feel her face heating up. "Jus' wanted to make sure he's safe, that's all," she said, trying in vain to appear composed. "But that's all good and done. So, for now, tell me what's goin' on out there." She gestured to the exterior of the bubble

Harriet decidedly ignored her apparent embarrassment, continuing to speak in a business-like manner. "We have reason to believe that those creatures are responsible for the disease and pollution."

Rose crossed her arms, a perplexed look coming onto her face. "But I thought that the Doctor already explained all that stuff with the asteroid and that planet?"

"Well..." Harriet started, trailing off. "It's possible that there are multiple causes."

Rose shook her head. "But I heard the Doctor in that tent right there saying that-"

"We found one of them by you when you contracted Viscitis!" Harriet finally exclaimed, interrupting Rose. "And people had long suspected that the creatures were possibly responsible for all of our issues, so they seized the chance to attack!"

"But it didn't do anything!" Rose retaliated. "For some reason, it died when it hit the shield that the Doctor constructed. It didn't do anything to me!"

"But don't you see, Rose?" Harriet said, her voice suddenly dangerously quiet. "These people are desperate. We were abandoned! We were left behind and are now dying out. We need something to latch onto, some kind of cause, anything!"

Rose backed away from this woman, this parallel Harriet Jones, disgust apparent on her features. She reminded her of the Harriet Jones who had attacked the Sycorax ship so long ago in the other universe. A cold, merciless woman who had become bred for war. Someone who one touch too far to bring happiness to her people.

But at the same time, before Rose stood a disheveled, broken woman who had once probably been a strong leader. Her society had faced unexpected crisis that only degenerated as time went on, and along with it, she had disintegrated. Occasionally she put on some fake bravado to save face, but on the inside, she was ever so very tired.

"Rose!" A sudden sensation of dread filled Rose as she hear the Doctor's call behind her. She had known that eventually he would emerge from the tent, but she had wished to prolong their encounter as long as possible. She had directly defied what he had told her to do. She was weak and sick and would only interfere with his plans. Not to mention, this Doctor couldn't possibly know her as well as the other Doctor, so he'd be less willing to cut her slack. She turned around, completely expecting to see the oncoming storm charging at her.

But instead, she saw the Doctor, just the Doctor, jogging towards her, and as he neared, only worry was written across his face.

"Rose, are you all right?!" The Doctor asked upon reaching her. His eyes frantically travelled up and down her body, and before she knew what was happening he had clamped a palm on her forehead.

"You're burning up!" he exclaimed a moment later. He placed his hands on both of her shoulders, rubbing his them up and down her arms. His concerned eyes boring into hers.

"Why did you leave the TARDIS?" the Doctor asked softly. "Rose, you're still sick!" The look in his eyes made Rose feel horribly guilty, which was worse than the shouting that she'd been expecting. She was worrying him, out of all things, and that made the fact that this man was the Doctor so much more real.

"I have to tell you something, it's urgent," Rose said firmly, trying to draw her feverish brain back to reality. The warmth that spread through her chest as the Doctor gripped her arms didn't help in the slightest.

"What is it?" The Doctor asked, removing his hands, his ears holding the slightest pink tinge. Once more, he was all business.

"Doctor, you thought that you landed the TARDIS incorrectly," Rose said, eyes locking on his.

The Doctor gave her a confused look. "I clearly did make a steering mistake though."

Rose shook her head. "No, you didn't." A second before Rose said her next sentence, she could see fear settling in on the Doctor's face, understanding of what she was saying before she even said it.

"Doctor, right now we are on planet Earth." Rose shut her eyes, sighing heavily as the truth settled down on her shoulders.

"And we're here six months after we last left."


End file.
